Hunter After Dark
by Amme Mahtal
Summary: Set during season 1 of next class. With Hunter's new level of rage building over the Gaming Club, one action will land him in deep water. Will he do as he's told or will the oblivious authority figures in his life cause him to snap once more? Requested on my tumblr


Hunter let a groan escape from his mouth as he cleared yet another dirty table. There had to be at least 50 in the main auditorium itself. Ever since the stupid feminazi club had shut down gamer club, Hunter was experiencing violent bursts of anger and frustration that he was finding harder and harder to control with each day. It was affecting his mood, gaming, and social interactions with his friends . Yael, Baaz and Vijay all tried to remain optimistic about the whole ordeal, but Hunter was incapable of such feelings; he wasn't completely satisfied unless someone else was suffering, feeling his pain. Unfortunately, Hunter was fresh out of ideas, and as a result, he had landed into even more hot water:

A few nights ago, Hunter was walking through a strange neighborhood late at night. He had his favorite headset covering his ears as he tried to listen to a Realm of Doom walkthrough. However, the young gamer failed to recognize where he actually was, and thus his phone was incredibly laggy. Not being able to take it any longer, he ripped the massive device from his ears and flung it as far as he could, a loud shattering sound soon ringing in his ears. Hunter didn't even know where he was, he just assumed he was in some random town. Oh how wrong he had been; he was actually at Toronto's very own burlesque house, and the crashing sound he had heard from launching his own headgear was the sound of crashing glass. But not just any glass. Oh no. Hunter didn't break just any old window, he of course had broken a stained glass window. Of course! As soon as he realized what he had done, he took of running, not wanting to get caught. But, once again, the universe for some ungodly reason decided to punish him once more; the owner of the burlesque house had seen him and was quite quick to catch up to him.

And now, Hunter was being forced by the owner to work off the damage, virtually acting as her slave by cleaning up after the disgusting visitors. Hunter wasn't even sure what a burlesque house was until he actually looked it up. Man was he in for a surprise. He was slightly horrified at the idea, but also fascinated by the design of the building; it reminded him of one of the haunted houses he and Miles used to go to every Halloween. Hunter sighed, a tiny part of him wishing he and Miles could still do those things together, but he knew deep down he was too old to still be intrigued by juvenile entertainment. That was the main reason he kept his hobbies to himself. He was afraid if people found out he wrote comic books or drew anime, they would make fun of him and he'd be at the mercy of those despicable idiots.  
Hunter was so embarrassed and agitated by everything that had happened that he didn't even bother telling his mother; she barely seemed to notice him anyway. He had been coming to this house everyday for almost a week now, and not once had she sent him a text or called, asking where he was or if he was okay. It hurt, knowing his own flesh and blood didn't care about him.

…

30 minutes later, Hunter had finally decided enough was enough. He had been working for nearly 6 hours, the most time he had ever wasted at this stupid house. And to think he had to keep this up for a whole month! How much did a stained glass window cost anyway? Apparently a lot if he had to spent all of his time here. As quietly as he could, Hunter crept across the auditorium, taking care not to knock any furniture over. After what seemed like hours, he finally made it to the back exit. Grinning, he slammed his body against the door and took off running, never looking back. His heart rate rose as he further distanced himself from the house. Each step he took was a step closer to freedom. He didn't even care that it was pitch black outside and he was probably going the wrong way home; all he cared about was getting as far away from that vile building as possible.

WHAM!

"Oof!" Hunter cried out in pain as he crashed into something and fell to the ground.

"What have we here?" A voice called out from the dark.

"Huh?" He asked, slowly rising to his feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" His annoying older brother chided sarcastically.

"Miles?" He groaned. Hunter should have known he would be the one to stop him from doing anything out of orthodox. "What are you doing here?"

His brother chuckled. "I could ask you the same thing," he said, an element of tease etched in his voice. "What are you doing out so late? Does mom know?"

Hunter bit his lip at the mention of their mom. It was almost a week and he still hadn't told her of the property damage he had caused (not to mention what kind of property). The younger brother had just assumed his mother thought he had been staying late at school, gaming or otherwise. But now Miles had caught him, and could potentially make things worse (if such a thing was possible).

"If you must know," he started, drawing a deep breath. "I broke a stained glass window—from the burlesque house over there—and the owner has me doing grunt work everyday after school to pay for it."

It may have been dark outside, but Hunter could tell his brother was doing everything in his power to keep from laughing at him. Hunter rolled his eyes and shouted,

"You cannot tell mom! She doesn't know what I did or how much money I owe."

Miles suppressed a giggle, as he posed a good question, "Really, how much do you owe?"

Hunter sighed. "I have no idea. The owner never told me; she just said I would be working here for a long time."

"Well," Miles said. "Sounds like you've got yourself in sticky situation."

"No shit Sherlock!" The younger brother cried, agitated.

"Hey, hey, don't take it out on me. I'm not the one who broke some old lady's window—"

"What do you want Miles?" Hunter asked, cutting his brother off mid-sentence.

"Hmm. There's an idea," his brother thought out loud. Hunter groaned. Why couldn't he keep his big fat mouth shut? "You do my laundry for 2 weeks—"

"2 weeks?!" He cried in shock.

Miles grinned evilly. "No, you're right. Let's make it 5."

Hunter was about to protest but remembered what happened last time. Through clenched teeth, he said, "Deal."

"Excellent," Miles said, shaking his hand.

"You're the worst," Hunter muttered under his breath.

The target of the insult chuckled. "I know you don't mean that," he replied, pulling Hunter into a hug.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" He cried at the sudden embrace. Hunter hated being touched. It made his skin crawl with the idea that people thought it was okay to invade someone's personal space without permission.

"What, can't a guy hug his brother?" Miles asked sarcastically.

Hunter said nothing, rolling his eyes as Miles let go.

"But seriously Hunter," he said, the sudden change in his tone giving Hunter the clue that he was about to witness the dreaded older-brother-knows-all-speech.

"Don't run away from your problems. No matter how minor, they will catch up to you. Take it from the guy who has spent most of high school cutting class and getting high."

Hunter stood, completely flabbergasted at Miles. Never had he heard such bitter truth. Damn. And Miles' self-satire at the end was both reassuring and sad to think about; his brother clearly had some regrets, and seeing Hunter make reckless mistakes that reflected himself couldn't be easy for Miles to watch unfold.

"Thanks," Hunter said with a toothy grin. "I'll keep that in mind while I'm scraping gum from underneath tables."

Miles laughed at his joke, which made Hunter feel good about himself; he didn't see his brother smile too much these days, but today, he had. And it was all thanks to him.


End file.
